


Cerebellum.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's WHUMPTOBER 2018 [27]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "I can't walk", Angst and Feels, Car Accidents, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Mentioned Injury, Team as Family, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Two months ago, Aobajousai bore witness to a horrific car crash, where one of their own was injured.Today, they're on their way to visit him in hospital as a group for the first time, on the day where he gets news back about potential brain damage.(Sequel to Zebra Crossings, but can be read on its own.)





	Cerebellum.

More and more frequently, Kunimi was starting to skip cleaning up at the end of practice, sometimes walking out before practice was even over. But he faced no punishment, and Irihata even nodded encouragingly to him sometimes.

Because it was understandable. The rest of the team would take turns on different days, leaving once practice was over, to the same location, to the same person, with the same kind of feelings. Kunimi’s were just… So much more _intense_.

Because his best friend was in hospital after being mowed down by a speeding car.

The damage had been so _extensive_ that Kindaichi hadn’t woken up for six days, and almost two months later, he was still hospitalised. The wounds and the backlash from them had been…

Traumatic. Oikawa couldn’t hear anything squelch without feeling nauseous. Matsukawa took one look at pork ribs and raced off to be sick. Hanamaki still scrubbed his hands as if there was blood on them. Iwaizumi had fallen into a habit of randomly checking people’s pulse, haunted look on his face, and Yahaba still reached for a hand to hold occasionally.

Kyoutani, Watari, and Kunimi had been lucky. Kyoutani had thought to stop Kunimi from approaching the distressing scene, and Watari had comforted him through the frantic panic.

Through not knowing if Kindaichi was _alive_ or not.

Doctors had made it very clear that Kindaichi waking up and starting to recover was nothing short of miraculous, but he had done it. For the first week or so, he’d been constantly fatigued, drifting in and out of conscious without control, and had still needed help breathing.

But now, two months from the accident, he was almost back to full health. It was just a matter of tracking adverse effects and making sure he’d be okay coming off morphine.

“I’m heading off now.” Still in volleyball uniform and with his bag slung over his shoulder, Kunimi hovers in the doorway, unsurely.

Oikawa suddenly remembers what day it is. 

“Ah! Kunimi-chan! Wait for us, okay? We all want to hear the results.” Because Kindaichi had obtained a horrendous head injury in the accident, he’d undergone all sorts of testing, from MRI to EEG to PET.

Today, those results came back.

“Okaaay.” Despite his bored tone, Kunimi relaxes, and a tiny smile tugs at his lips. It’s wonderful to have such supportive friends, their team more like a family than anything else. Lingering in the doorway, Kunimi paces back and forth, nibbling on his bottom lip anxiously.

What if something’s wrong? What if the head injury was something serious, if his broken ribs and spine were permanently damaged somewhere alone the neural system, or if…

Kunimi doesn’t want to think about it, his mind going to dark places. As the world starts closing in like a pinhole, the edges of his vision blurring with tears and his breath coming faster, a warm hand presses against the back of his neck and gives a subtle squeeze, sliding to his shoulder.

“Y’okay?” Kyoutani’s gruff intervention snaps him out of it, and Kunimi slides his hands over his face stressfully, knotting in his fringe before letting them drop to his sides with a sigh. And a nod.

“Mhm. Thank you.” Kyoutani pats his shoulder in an awkwardly affectionate way before withdrawing his hand so the others don’t catch him in the act. Yahaba would never let him live it down. 

Hanamaki, Watari, and Iwaizumi are the next out in a group of three, and Oikawa trails behind them. Lastly, Yahaba and Matsukawa hurry out the room, although Matsukawa almost trips over one of his untied laces.

“Ready?” Kunimi nods and takes a deep breath before taking the first step out the gymnasium, towards the nearby bus stop.

The bus ride is silent, the atmosphere tense and stiff. Hanamaki stares down at the palms of his hands, shaking very slightly as if he can see the pools of blood still flowing over them. 

When the car had hit Kindaichi, they hadn’t been sure if anything was broken, if he was even _alive_ , and Hanamaki had been the one to support his neck until the ambulance arrived. With his hands there, he had been _covered_ in the blood from Kindaichi’s horrific head injury.

Honestly, Hanamaki had thought the boy really was dead.

The first time Hanamaki had been alone in the hospital room with Kindaichi, someone staying with him at all times during the first, terrifying, touch-and-go week, Hanamaki had hugged him tight and burst into tears, so thankful that Kindaichi was still… Himself. He’d heard rumours of amnesia, blindness, and all sorts of things caused by head injuries.

“Makki…” The soft whisper is accompanied by a gentle hand lying over his, and when he sighs, Oikawa pulls those hands towards him and holds them supportively. Hanamaki smiles gratefully at his Captain, before Iwaizumi is ushering them all off the bus at the hospital stop.

They’ve become rather familiar with this place.

They’re silent and tense as they walk the halls towards the room Kindaichi has been recently moved to after his healing progress. Usually, they’d be alone but in a light mood, happy to see their friend and remaining upbeat so it didn't bring him down. But today isn’t like that.

Today is _serious_.

“- just a little later.” As they round the corner, Oikawa blinks in surprise, mouth forming a little shocked ‘oh’, and he breaks into a speed walk, almost a jog.

“Did we miss it?” The doctor who has just closed the door to Kindaichi’s room looks surprised at the sudden question, but smiles in a friendly manner and turns to talk to them when he spots the group of kids that have been frequenting the hospital every day, for two months.

“Good afternoon, children. Are you talking about the test results?” Oikawa nods, biting his bottom lip stressfully.

“I’m afraid so. The results came in this morning and Kindaichi-kun was adamant about reading them immediately.” There’s something like a chill that sweeps over the rest of the team, and Kunimi visibly shrinks, clutching Iwaizumi’s sleeve as if seeking comfort.

Iwaizumi is no better, but he rests his free hand on Kunimi’s shoulder. Oikawa inhales sharply and tries to calm himself before his hands start shaking. 

“Was it- Was it good news, at the least…?” The doctor frowns a little, holding a clipboard closer to his chest. His voice lowers to barely above a whisper.

“I haven’t seen the results, personally, but Kindaichi-kun has seemed a little down all day. He keeps asking when you’ll be here.”

“...Shit.” Matsukawa’s general statement pretty much covers all their mixed feelings, and Yahaba tightly grips at the hand closest to him - Watari’s, apparently - at the same time Kunimi takes a step closer towards the centre of their group, Hanamaki stares blankly at his own hands in regret, and Oikawa moves to open the door to Kindaichi’s room.

Before he does, he erases all emotion from his face. And then he paints on a forced, meant-to-look-normal smile.

He’s too tense for it to be genuine.

“Afternoon, Kin-chan~!” He enters the room with a flourish, startling the young teenager sitting in the hospital bed, reading through the daily hospital newsletter. It’s more of a mini-newspaper, really. 

He jolts at Oikawa’s entrance, and give a timid, almost fragile smile in response, folding the newsletter up and placing it aside. It’s scarily docile compared to his usual enthusiasm when someone comes to visit. Oikawa doesn’t miss the telltale red around his eyes.

“Ah, hi, Oikawa-Senpai.” Make that _terrifyingly_ docile. His hands are folded in his lap, and Oikawa just now notices how the one on the bottom grabs the fabric, as if to stop shaking hands. Gesturing behind his back for the rest of the team to wait, Oikawa steps in and slides the door closed, moving to perch on the chair next to the bed.

Kindaichi refuses to meet his gaze, or maybe, it’s more like he can’t bear to, just staring down at his own hands, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Gently, Oikawa exhales and moves to rest his folded arms on the rail around the bed, exhaling as he perches his chin atop them.

“Did you want to tell us individually, or all together…?” There’s a brief moment where Kindaichi’s eyes flicker to him with a hint of shock, before he chuckles. But it’s low. It’s sad and sombre. It’s _bitter_.

“I’m sorry.” Oikawa blinks and sits up a little, tilting his head with confusion.

“Whatever for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I- I should have waited…”

“... For the results?”

“Mhm…” The insecure little hum of agreement, quivering as if Kindaichi is about to burst into tears, looking in the opposite direction, has Oikawa both tense with fear and soften with sympathy. He reaches a hand over and lazily rubs Kindaichi’s back.

“We’re here for you, Kin-Chan. We’ll always be here - we’re your team!” An emotion Oikawa can’t place flashes briefly across Kindaichi’s face before he forces on a fake, wobbling grin that looks more like a grimace.

“S- Sure. Umm… Is there any chance I could…” He trails off, but his eyes fix on the hospital room doors, and Oikawa huffs a small smile as he moves the hand rubbing Kindaichi’s back to squeeze his shoulder supportively.

“Talk to them?” A small nod.

“I’ll let them in, okay?” For the first time that afternoon, Kindaichi lifts his head and makes eye-contact, and Oikawa can instantly tell he’s been crying - _bawling_ \- for a large portion of the day.

“E-Eh? They’re here? Everyone’s here?!” An inkling of happiness trickles into his voice, and a genuine smile creeps up on his face, cheeks flushing with excitement instead of sorrow.

“I had no idea everyone was coming today! That’s amazing, I haven’t seen everyone together for _months_ ~!!!” His enthusiasm is catching, and Oikawa laughs brightly as he stands, walking over to the door with a skip in his step.

“Surprise!” He pulls open the door and sticks his head out, gesturing for everyone to be quiet for a split second.

“Don’t say anything about the results yet, let’s enjoy time together first.” His whisper, barely audible above the hospital bustle, is met with sincere nods and quiet agreement before he steps back to allow them in the room.

As per usual, Kunimi clambers onto the bed, Kindaichi shuffling over to make room for him with a giant grin, and Kunimi slumps against his best friends mid-section. Whether intentionally or not, Kindaichi tends to play with his hair, running his fingers through the strands.

Watari laughs a little at the sweet display of affection and protectiveness, whilst Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Before he can lecture them about behaving properly in a hospital, Matsukawa nudges his shoulder with a soft smirk.

“Leave them be~. If it were Oikawa, you’d do the same.” Something painful twists in Iwaizumi’s stomach, thuds in his heart, as he puts Oikawa in Kindaichi’s place - not just here in the hospital, but lying on that street, bleeding and on the verge of death, being _run over_ at such a speed it had shattered a ribcage, bone protruding through the flesh.

“Y-Yeah…” His voice croaks a little out of pure fear. Matsukawa winces.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. I meant with the sharing bed thing.” Trying to push aside that flux of emotions, the same ones he felt in the small blip of silence between the car impacting, and Oikawa rushing in to help, the same emotions he’s sure Kunimi _still_ felt, Iwaizumi clears his throat and moves to the window, opening it just a little.

Kindaichi has a nice room, that’s for sure. A view that stretches over the town below, with the ocean in the distance, the line of blue just visible on the horizon, and an amazing sunrise each morning if he’s awake in time. Or hasn’t slept at all.

Iwaizumi remembers one of the many times he’d come here afterschool to keep the first year company. Kindaichi had been drifting in and out of a disorientated daze, and it was only when Iwaizumi had threatened to tell his parents about the change in behaviour, that Kindaichi had admitted to not sleeping.

Nightmares - No, _memories_ \- of the incident plagued him, haunted him in his sleep.

“That’s not too cold, is it?” The autumn air outside is a little above freezing, but thankfully lacks a breeze. When Iwaizumi recieves a chorus of ‘nope’ and ‘just perfect’s, he props the window open and joins the fringes of the group, leaning against the wall comfortably. 

A merry two hours pass, just 9 of them in the same hospital room - 8 visiting - talking and laughing and joking around. At one point, Yahaba had gone to get drinks from the cafe downstairs, and come back to find Hanamaki had stolen his chair, so decided Hanamaki _was_ the chair.

Yahaba was still in his lap. 

Kyoutani and Iwaizumi had begun armwrestling, which got them quickly told off by a nurse, so they were seperated across the room. Oikawa had taken great delight in teasing Iwaizumi for being “So immature, Iwa-Chan!” and rightfully earned himself a punch to the upper arm.

When he’d tried to return it, Watari had intervened and separated _them_ , so Oikawa was pouting behind a magazine in one corner and Iwaizumi was moping by the window. A quick game of Jan-Ken-Po had worked to cheer them up, and when Kunimi emerged the winner, no one argued for fear of their lives.

Kunimi could be terrifying if his fair win wasn’t accepted.

The drinks from the cafe had all been demolished by the teatime, so whilst Kindaichi got to order one of the hospital supplied meals for patients, Matsukawa took a short trip to the convenience store not too far away to get bento boxes. 

They were more suitable for lunch than dinner, but they were willing to make-do. Kindaichi was happy to share little bits of his meal out anyways, particularly the side dish that contained red peppers. He found them _disgusting_ , but Hanamaki was content to snack on them.

Once they were all fed, content with full bellies and comforted with each other’s presence, it was time for the more serious topic - and one of the reasons they were all here together.

“I- Umm… I have something… Something to tell you…” It’s Kindaichi’s own words that bring the subject about, and it adds heavy weight to the atmosphere as he fumbles his hands together, looking down at them with confidence lacking. 

“We’re listening.” Yahaba’s gentle whisper, almost like talking to a cornered animal seems to bring him back out of the shell he’s burrowed himself into, and Kindaichi draws in a deep breath before looking up as if to meet all their eyes, brows furrowed.

“I’m quitting the team.” As expected, his announcement is met with a barrage of protests, until Oikawa holds a hand up in silence, an intimidating captain aura surrounding him. Once the group have quietened, he softens and specifically addresses Kindaichi.

“Why?” Kindaichi makes a small, _distressed_ hum under his breath, caving into the pressure. It must be hard to announce, and he knows the team wants him there, and he _desperately_ wants to stay with them, but…

“I- I can’t… I can’t play volleyball… Can’t play anymore…” There’s a ripple of astonishment, disbelief, and sadness through the room, and Kunimi moves to wrap his arms around Kindaichi comfortingly and hug him. That’s the moment when he breaks down, the tears he’d held back for so long escaping in a series of choked sobs.

Watari jumps up to reach across Kunimi and add his own hug, whilst Yahaba leans over from Hanamaki’s lap to lay a gentle hand on Kindaichi’s leg. 

“Of course you can… It’s taking time, but you’re healing.” Frantically shaking his head, Kindaichi wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.

“No! No, I can’t! I _can’t_!” It takes a short minute to calm him back down, to the point where he’s sniffling and the tears fall silently instead of the rambling that’s just short of panic. Kunimi dries his eyes with as tissue and Kindaichi mumbles a small ‘thank you’, but he just sounds _broken_.

“I know I’m just repeating Oikawa here, but… Why? Why do you think you can’t play anymore?”

“Because…” Kindaichi trails off, breathing heavily and shoulders shaking and biting his lip so hard it leaves dents. Kunimi squeezes him comfortingly, nestling his head against Kindaichi’s collarbone, and Watari holds one of his hands.

“You can tell us anything. We’re your team, yes, but we’re your _friends_ first and foremost.” 

“Thank you.” The affirmation and sincerity from Kyoutani, of all people to say something so sappy, relaxes Kindaichi more than it would have from anyone else. If Kyoutani can honestly say that they’re friends before anything else, then it must be true.

Oikawa playfully waggles his eyebrows in Kyoutani’s direction, stepping closer as if to nudge him. Kyoutani glares, but that does nothing to dissuade the captain, who loops an arm around his neck and gives him a noogie.

“You’re getting soft, Kyouken-Chan! You _do_ have a heart~!” 

“Gerrof me!”

“Oi, Crappykawa! Leave him alone!” Oikawa laughs as he loosens his hold, letting Kyoutani scamper away from him. 

But Oikawa isn’t just behaving stupidly, he’s not just being silly and obnoxious without reason. He’s _acting_. His sharp, brown eyes glint with methodical planning when Kindaichi muffles a little laugh behind his hand.

The one, most effective way to cheer up their first years is to cause chaos of some kind. Kindaichi is sweet and somewhat sensitive, but he also places a lot of value on physical affection between teammates, possibly why he was so unsure and irked and angered and _upset_ by Kageyama during middle school.

So to just see his team- no, his _friends_ messing around with each other and play fighting and hugging and being together was a surefire way to cheer him up. That went for double when it included him. A fun kind of chaos exactly what Oikawa had just created.

Kunimi had a slight sadistic streak and was cheered up by a different kind of chaos, but that’s a whole other story.

“Oikawa-senpai, watch your back.” Completely deadpan, Yahaba finishes his sentence by poking his tongue out at Kyoutani, incenting him into bristling up like an angry cat, trying to think of a response.

“... Shut up.” Yeah, that works. Yahaba just laughs and turns back to Kindaichi, his hand patting out some kind of rhythm on Kindaichi’s leg.

“Sorry, we interrupted you.” Kindaichi hums a little under his breath, but manages to stay remarkably calm considering how _bad_ he must be feeling. He taps at his own knee with the hand Watari isn’t holding.

“I can’t play, because of the results from earlier. Basically, the scans came back and showed a little damage. It’s permanent, but it’s only in a small area.” Hanamaki sits up a little straighter, a haunted look in his eyes.

“Damage? Like, brain damage? From the head injury?” Kindaichi nods. 

“Holy shit…” It’s a lot of information to just be given to them like that, and the team are collectively silent and still until Hanamaki breaks it, sounding vaguely like _he’s_ about to burst into tears.

“I’m sorry…! I- I’m so sorry, Kindaichi…” Kindaichi blinks, eyes widened just a little, and tilts his head to the side curiously, also trying to catch Hanamaki’s eye.

“What? Why?”

“B-Because I was… I was the one holding your head! If I’d done a better job then-!”

“Senpai, please shut up!” Out of pure _shock_ that Kindaichi would shout at him so disrespectfully, and with a hint of anger, Hanamaki cuts himself off and looks up at him. He’s so shocked that even the tears that were supposed to spill recede!

Kindaichi is frowning at him, mouth like an upside down v, and his eyebrows are tightly knitted together. It’s not pure anger though. Maybe a little bit, but there’s something else there, something Hanamaki can’t put a name to…

“You idiot! You can’t blame yourself! That’s so _stupid_! The damage was dealt by the _impact_ , not by anything after it! Well, except maybe crashing on the road, but… Everything you did stopped it being worse, understand?! You **helped** me, Hanamaki. If you hadn’t been there… It could have been a lot worse.”

“I-...”

“And!!! There was no way you could do better! Even the doctor who first spoke to me said he was amazed I wasn’t _showing_ more signs of brain injury, and that’s because I was so well supported!” The more Kindaichi releases the anger, the more he realises how much he’s shouting at his Senpai, so rudely. His confidence wavers with his anger, but he wants to make a point.

“So- So there!” He crosses his arms and huffs sternly, but it looks more like a childish pout, like a child trying to pull a fast one over their guardian with ‘logic’. It does, however, get the message through. 

Hanamaki snorts. Then snickers. Then laughs softly, warmly.

“Thanks, Kindaichi~. It makes me happy to hear that.” Kindaichi can’t mask his concern as anger any longer and breaks into a bright grin, giving Hanamaki a thumbs up. Ever the voice of reason, Iwaizumi clears his throat to bring attention his way.

“I’m really glad the damage is in a ‘small area’, but.... What does that actually mean, for you?”

“Well… The damage is only in the cerebellum, so I’m _really_ lucky that I’m not paralysed below the spine.” To prove a point, he lifts one leg and then the other.

“It didn’t affect my language either, and I’m pretty sure my attention span is the same as before, although I _have_ been warned that learning new things might take a bit of time. Not really ideal for school, huh?” His comment paired with casual shrug and half-smile draws a few amused chuckles, but Matsukawa can see there’s more.

“That’s what it didn’t do, Kindaichi.” The smile wobbles into a flat frown, and Iwaizumi smacks the back of Matsukawa’s head to reprimand him as Oikawa pinches his shoulder somewhat roughly. 

“Mhm… Yeah, sorry… I kind of got distracted by how lucky I was to avoid those things. On the other hand, it _did_ affect my balance and coordination. The doctors said that because the brain is weird, the ‘levels’ of damage won’t be consistent. I’ll have good days and bad days.” Kindaichi pauses, as if struggling for the words, trying to ease them into what he already knows.

“On good days, I might have to lean against something when I stand still, or walk in a wobbly line before falling over, or maybe knock something off a table once or twice.” His face falls as he takes a deep breath.

“Then there are bad days, like today. My coordination is so bad that if I tried to high-five you, I’d probably smack you in the face. I can’t pick stuff up for long because my brain goes ‘whoops, it’s actually to the left!’ and I let go before I know it. And… Umm…” He trails off, looking down at his legs.

“I can’t walk.” He chokes back a sad laugh, looking for all the world like he’s being crushed under the weight of sorrow.

“Hell, I can’t even _stand_ right now!”

“Kindaichi…” Kunimi pulls back just enough to push himself into a sitting up position and then hugs his best friend again, cradling Kindaichi’s head against his shoulder to calm him, feeling tears of frustration dampening his shirt. Not even Kunimi’s eyes are dry.

That’s his best friend. That’s his not-blood-related _brother_. They’ve known each other since they were babies, and Kindaichi has always, _**always**_ , been the active one.

The one who walked before he could crawl, danced before he could run, climbed a tree before he could jump… The one who was constantly on the move, constantly looking for a game to play or sport to indulge in.

Shy as he was, Kindaichi was the one who constantly met new people in his adventures, wanted to be part of a team, and once he had found his sport, was determined to play volleyball forever.

That entire dream… Everything Kindaichi wanted to be, everything Kindaichi _was_ , that had driven him to this point…

It had all been callously ripped away from him.

“I’ll kill him… I’ll-! I’ll find that driver and _kill him_!” The sheer fury of Kunimi’s words is just, but the words themselves are not. Through his heavy sobs, Kindaichi reaches up and tugs at Kunimi’s shirt - missing the sleeve he had been aiming for - and shakes his head.

“D-Don’t… Please, don’t…” He can’t bear to see his friend fall to such vengeance, wrapped up in anger and misery. He doesn’t want Kunimi to lead that kind of lifestyle. Kunimi squeezes him tighter, a silent promise that he won’t actually do it, and just focuses on comforting Kindaichi whilst crying himself.

Watching from the sidelines, Oikawa clenches his fist. 

One person did this. One person maliciously ran through a zebra crossing, when _children_ were leaving their schools, and injured Kindaichi so badly that his life was _permanently affected_.

This isn’t just a bruise that will fade, or a broken limb that will heal. This is brain trauma that will last a lifetime. This is a condition Kindaichi is going to have every single day, of every single month, of every single year.

It isn’t fair that the driver is still out there somewhere and Kindaichi is here, trapped in a hospital bed, trapped with legs he cannot walk on, and hope so frail he could easily fall into a depressive spiral.

Spurned by anger, by vengeance, by _bloodlust_ , Oikawa slips out of the room. Matsukawa is the only one to notice, the others still crowding Kindaichi, and follows out of concern. It’s only when they’re in an empty corridor that Matsukawa speaks.

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

“... I want to. I so _badly_ want to do the stupidest thing I can think of, to hurt someone so badly.” Shoving his hands into his pockets with a contemplative humm, Matsukawa rocks on his heels.

“Are you going to?”

“I don't know.”

“I’m up for it if you are. I mean… That’s our first year in there. Our team _baby_. I’d want to drag that guy around by the ankles over hot coal, if I knew who it was.” Oikawa looks over his shoulder at Matsukawa, the grin on his face dangerous and his eyes glinting with something _deadly_.

“Oho? I quite like that idea~... The police haven’t gotten very far, but I’m sure I could find out who it was, easy-peasy~.” Matsukawa smirks, trotting over to Oikawa’s side and walking with him in solidarity. Murderous solidarity, but solidarity all the same.

“Hold it _right_ there.” Before they can even make it down the first flight of stairs, something grabs the back of their collars. Their blood metaphorically freezes in their veins at Iwaizumi’s stern command.

“... Aha. Hi, Iwa-Chan?”

“Back to the room. _Now_.” 

“Welp, no arguing with that.”

“Wha- Mattsun?! I thought you were on my side!”

“ _Oikawa._ Room. _**Now**_.” Pouting at his foiled attempt, Oikawa trails after Matsukawa back to the hospital room, Iwaizumi keeping a hand on the back of his neck as a warning.

Or maybe just checking his pulse. He’s been doing that frequently since the incident. As they approach, there’s _chaos_ inside the room, shouting and screeching and crashing. Iwaizumi and Oikawa exchange a baffled, concerned look before they rush to open the doors-

And there’s Kindaichi, one arm looped around Hanamaki’s shoulders, the other around Kunimi’s, stumbling towards the door with such bad balance and coordination that he’s knocked over the side table, dragged Hanamaki over a chair, and somehow managed to stay upright even through his legs have crossed over.

Yahaba is on the floor, having dived to catch a falling vase, doused in water and flowers. Watari is trying to pick up the stack of ‘get well soon’ cards scattered across the floor, and Kyoutani stands away from it all with a hand over his face.

Kind of an “If I can’t see it, it’s not happening” mentality. 

“ _What_ is going on here?!” The room freezes in comical silence and stillness at Iwaizumi’s bewilderment.

“I- I left for two minutes! _Two minutes!_ Do you seriously need babysitting at 15, 16, 17 years old?!” Hanamaki has the decency to look sheepish, even as Matsukawa laughs at him from the doorway, but Kindaichi shows no guilt at his trail of destruction and determinedly wobbles forwards, like a newborn giraffe combined with a penguin.

“Take it easy… Slow… Slow… Kindaichi, you’re strangling me.” 

“Then keep up, Kunimi!” With great focus, Kindaichi manages to make it all the way to the door, and then, with great risk, lets go of Kunimi to reach up and flop against Matsukawa and Oikawa.

“Don’t _do_ that!!! I know what you were thinking! Don’t be dumb! Don’t be stupid! I don’t _want_ anyone to go out there getting ‘revenge’ and all that stuff! Leave that for volleyball, idiots!” He risks falling over to let go of Oikawa to bat at them, upsetting his balance even further and slipping to the floor.

Luckily, Matsukawa is quick to react and stops him from hitting his head on the doorway, but it’s hard to help him up when Kindaichi is clumsily trying to hit at him, albeit missing most of the time thanks to the brain trauma.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, Kindaichi… Let me get you off the floor before you get angry at us, okay?” 

“Shut up, shut up! You’re idiots! You’re both idiots! _Haven’t enough people been hurt already?!_ Why would you want to hurt _**more**_?!” Sagging to the floor completely as he loses strength and breaks down crying, Kindaichi finally allows the depth of the situation to sink in, and grieves.

Grieves for the loss of volleyball, for the loss of just walking around normally, for the loss of _so much more_ than it seems on the surface. The fact that there’ll be days where he’ll be bedridden, that he’ll have to have his entire home environment adapted for his lack of balance, that he’ll have to watch life go by from the sidelines.

It feels like he’s lost everything. 

“Kin-chan…” His damp, emotional voice cutting through the silence around the sobs, Oikawa kneels down, strokes a hand through Kindaichi’s loose, greasy hair, and then carefully scoops him up, one arm weaseling around his back and the other under his knees.

It wouldn’t be good to let him try walking again, mainly because he’s obviously not in the right place - emotionally _or_ mentally - but also because of the destruction his simple path from bed to door caused. Even with Hanamaki and Kunimi both holding him upright, he’d still stumbled and lost balance and knocked things over dangerously. All three of them will have bruises tomorrow.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you. Shh… It’s okay…” Yahaba shoves the vase and ruined flowers into Kyoutani’s arms before Kyoutani can protest, quickly moving to pull back the bed covers. Watari catches on and abandons the scattered stack of get-well-soon cards to place the pillow back on the bed where Kindaichi had knocked it off in his unbalanced, clumsy scramble off the bed.

There had been no stopping him once he’d realised where and _why_ Oikawa and Matsukawa had left the room. Iwaizumi going after them had only made the situation worse, because he was probably the only one that Kindaichi would have listened to when the team were telling him to stop.

“There we go…” Oikawa lays him down, but when he moves to step away so Yahaba can tuck him in, Kindaichi clings on tightly - insecurely - to the front of his shirt. Or maybe he’s just using Oikawa’s shoulder to hide his crying face, not that the fabric does more than muffle the heartbroken cries.

“Yuutarou…” The bed creaks slightly as Kunimi climbs back on it, but instead of sitting besides Kindaichi like he usually does, he lies flat on his back and opens his arms.

For a moment, nothing happens. But then Kindaichi seems to sense that his best friend is waiting for him. His best friend who, despite being affectionate, _hates_ full body hugs that include the legs, the complete opposite of himself.

This is a once in a lifetime offering and Kindaichi sniffles as he rolls over, letting go of Oikawa in favour of wrapping his arms and legs around Kunimi, burying his mucky, tearful face in Kunimi’s collarbone. Kunimi only huffs in amusement as he hugs back, one hand resting on Kindaichi’s upper arm and the other rubbing his back before moving to hitch one of Kindaichi's legs up slightly higher, entangling his own with them.

“Don’t ever expect this from me again, ‘kay? This is the _only_ time I’ll ever let you embrace me like this.” 

“O- Okay…” The small, _pathetic_ whimper of agreement through choked sobs prompts Kunimi to squeezes him a little tighter, whispering softly into Kindaichi’s loose hair.

“You’re making me soft, dork.” There’s a snort from the bedside, and Kunimi whips a short glare to Yahaba, who only grins with a hint of mischief. 

“That’s a damn lie, you’ve always been soft~.”

“Have not.”

“You have. You _are_.”

“... Stop calling me out like this.” The deadpan reply, embedded with exasperation, draws forth a few small laughs, warm chuckles from those that understand Kunimi the best.

Ah, Aobajousai really is like a family to him. 

Even Kindaichi breaks a sob with a tiny laugh, lifting his head just enough to be heard throughout the room.

“Kunimi is only soft when he loves someone, otherwise he’s Ku _meanie_.”

“... I’m gonna put bleach in your breakfast.” Kindaichi hisses a laugh as Kunimi roughly tousles his hair as if to punish him before he gently strokes it back. He’s so soft that it’s hard to imagine Kunimi was the first one to stand up to Kageyama back in middle school.

“I’ll drink it. Don’t underestimate me.”

“Considering you ate a _sponge_ , I’m not surprised.”

“I was, like, seven! Stop bringing that up!” Kunimi laughs, and as it catches and spreads through the room, Kindaichi smiles.

He’s lost so much, but he still has his friends. He still has the team that has become his family, even if he can’t play for them anymore. The smile starts to fade, his shoulders sinking, and one person seems to notice before anyone else.

“What about bein’ the manager?” Kyoutani’s gruff interjection spawns a moment of thought and he slightly blushes as all eyes turn to him, arms crossed over and shuffling away from Oikawa’s line of gaze - as if Oikawa looked ready to pounce and murder him.

He probably is, considering Kyoutani brought it back to volleyball when they were trying to _avoid_ upsetting Kindaichi.

“... We don’t have a manager, right…? An’ you already know the team and what we need and stuff…” A humm of contentment comes from Iwaizumi.

“We always left the position open because the few girls that applied got their hearts broken by Oikawa-”

“Or scared off by Iwa-chan!”

“Or fed up with me ‘n’ Mattsun making bad jokes~.”

“- and nobody else signed up. Good idea, Kyoutani.” Matsukawa sighs heavily, roughly, as he stands and rubs at the back of his head.

“Now, hold on! This isn’t for _us_ to decide. We aren’t the ones in this situation.” 

“Umm…” Kindaichi shuffles to sit up, almost falling back to the mattress a couple of times as he overcompensates for the lack of balance, but Kunimi helps him on one side and Oikawa on the other. 

“Thanks. I-, uh, I’d need to think about it, but… I don’t really think I can. Thank you for thinking about me, but I can’t- I can’t _walk_. How can I hand out water bottles or pass around towels or do manager things when I can barely stand?”

“Then just do those on the good days.” The suggestion seems so simple, so blunt, especially coming from Kyoutani, but Kindaichi gives a small smile, looking more and more like he’s considering it.

“I don’t know how often those will be.” 

“That’s okay, we can still do those things on the bad days! And besides, as a manager, your main job would just be to cheer us on~!” With a blindingly pure grin, Watari holds out a thumbs up that Yahaba pushes down with a roll of the eyes.

“As much as Watari’s enthusiasm is OTT, I agree with what he’s saying. You could do manager _duties_ on the good days, and give us manager _support_ on the others. That way, you won’t even have to go too far from the court.”

“I’ll think about it.” It’s a repetition of what he said before, but Kindaichi’s smile is more genuine, and his eyes carry the spark of determination, and everything about him, in that one moment, looks confident.

Like he’s gained back the hope he lost that morning with the brain scan results.

Recovery is going to be slow, this Kindaichi knows, but with friends- no, _family_ like this by his side, he knows that he’ll metaphorically walk away from this and be okay.

As long as he is loved, no injury could bring him down.

**Author's Note:**

> I might not have finished whumptober in time, but I'm still gonna finish!
> 
> Please kudos and comment~


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